As I made my way through the rest of that year, I realized I was different, I would never be accepted for who I was, my father would make off color comments about gay people (his nephew included), I was a fat kid, and all I could do was think it was time to get away from it all-however I could. I just wanted to be "the same".
It occured to me one day when I was sitting in my car on the top of a parking structure in downtown Frankfort, that there was a life beyond the bounds of what I knew. It had to be different somehow-life was not going to turn out to be as bad as it seemed. I lingered there for a second-peering down the long expanse of the Kentucky river. A brisk wind was blowing that evening, and the sky was clear. I sat on the edge of the structure with nothing but tree tops and pavement below. I begged myself to be still. My mind was racing. Why couldn't I be who I was? Was I such a bad person? I sat there and wondered for what seemed like a day. I turned around to face the river-at that moment a car pulled up. Whomever was in that car was playing a song called "Place In This World" by Michael W. Smith. That song was very important to me during those days. They had their windows rolled down while that sat at the other end of the structure. I could tell who it was because it was dark. The song ended, I stepped back down on the floor of the structure and got in my truck.
As I sat there listening to that song, I remembered something. I was "fearfully and wonderfully made".
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WyPPBWeSRYs
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